I just shaved my beard with a razor blade and my two bare hands.
God damn I feel like a man.
The Agony of Laffitte
I just realized Spoon’s The Agony of Laffitte would be nothing without the ambient noise and rattling of the snare in the background. It could’ve been just another acoustic song. But it’s not. Brilliant.
I think I'm turning into Eurotrash, if only for a day
I’ve discovered French Electro and I think I like it a bit too much for my own good. We’ll see how long this lasts.
Thought of the Day 2
To cut down on costs, the porn industry should lay off their voiceover talent and just go to retirement homes and record old people moaning.Thought of the Day
Do nudists have nightmares about being fully-clothed in front of class?Reflections on the Gay Persona and General Ego Development
Let me be clear before I piss anyone off: I say ‘The Gay Persona’ because that is exactly what I’m referring to — the campy, outlandish, lisp-speaking personality many [male] homosexuals own, or have been portrayed as having; I do not mean to make broad-sweeping generalized statements about the entire gay community or its constituents. Are we good? Good.
Would a gay man with such a personality act in a way we might consider ‘straight’ or ‘normal’ when pulled over by a police officer? You might say, “Well, it depends on how attractive the police officer is,” assuming it’s a man. Let’s say the officer’s authority supersedes any notion of sexual attraction; the gay man is put into a situation of utmost seriousness, and is perhaps feeling a bit anxious, nervous, or even fearful. Would the gay man then break character? From what I’ve observed, the answer is yes and no, depending on the gay man’s level of stubbornness or, as some might say, naïvety. The question is: how much has this man convinced and deluded himself that this gay persona is his true self? You might say in the fictional man’s defense, “How do you know that isn’t his true self?” to which I’d respond, “For the same reason I know the Frat-boy ‘Bros’ or designer-clothes-wearing Fashionistas aren’t their true selves.” If you take offense to the terms I’ve used, allow me to explain by examining why some gay men adopt the gay persona.
At a young age, gay males aren’t accepted by their peers, nor sometimes by their parents, nor sometimes even by themselves. They can’t truly express themselves as individuals in an appropriate or moderate manner that agrees with societal or familial norms, so many find it comforting to adopt the gay persona in a sort of ‘all or nothing, love me or hate me’ response to the suppression and oppression imposed by others (and themselves); this takes place during their formative youth years, which sets the stage for long-term future personality shaping. In blunt terms, they hate themselves because others hate them, so they craft this new identity, this new persona to say ‘That person is not me; this is me,’ but they are essentially saying ‘I am not me; I am my ego;’ this is why I use the term ‘delusion.’
“Bullshit,” you might say. “I know many people who have lived their whole lives and haven’t changed as a person,” which I, too, have seen. “You mean to tell me their personality isn’t who they are as a person?” No. I mean, yes. They, as a person, are not how they act. What, then, defines a person’s true self? Simple: how they are, sans acting; the true self can usually be unmasked by isolation and introspection. Being around other people tends to engage the ego, so it’s no surprise that many of these people with elaborate personas are often extremely extroverted and almost always around others. Some people live their whole life as something other than themselves; they put career actors to shame. It’s for this reason that many people cannot come to terms with certain realities and find themselves lost, fighting their way through life, not seeing the truth of their hypocrisies and lies; they’ve hidden an essential, core part of themselves from their mind, and for that they are blind until they find and unearth it again.
But there is hope for the lost: As some of these people get older and thus more mature, they begin to accept themselves for who they truly are, retiring the act they’ve put on for all those years. They begin to settle down into a life of more depth and truth; the ego is no longer the centerpiece that runs their lives, that influences their every decision, that keeps them in a state of delusion with false truths and appeasements. You might say these people are boring; boring old people living boring suburban lives. Perhaps at face value, such an egoless life would be boring. But for some, peace with oneself and true, total acceptance without having or trying to be something is a prized possession that can’t be bought, like virtue or virginity. In this sense, they get to re-craft themselves from the start, as they did when they were younger, except this time, all the interests and experiences will be genuine, not forced. And in that, life becomes fun and adventurous again.
On Comments
Am I the only one who thinks comments are the bane of the internet? I suppose blogs could be worse, but I never seem to have blogs forced down my throat on every website I visit. It seems like comments are the must-have thing to make your site a site these days; it’s web 2.0’s equivalent of animated GIFs, only more annoying because you can’t hear animated GIFs in your head saying stupid things in your own voice. I’m kind of mad at those idiots for making me psuedo-say their shit.
I’d like to disable or hide all of the comments on every site I visit, but it’s nearly impossible; there’d have to be some sort of collective database-driven monolith that keeps tabs on comment systems throughout the net — but even then, you’d still come across an obscure new site that’s managed to skip the beat, wrought with degenerates and egotists of all sorts.
Comments are a terrible way to promote and grow a localized community, but I guess it serves its main purpose: keep people coming back, if not only to voice their stupid fucking opinions and thoughts. I’ve yet to find a gathering of individuals on the internet that hasn’t devolved into a cess pool. I’ve often heard anonymity is solely to blame for this. Perhaps. Or maybe some people are just… well, you know.
“I don’t need to physically exert myself to have someone pee in my mouth.”
my thoughts on swimming pools
An astute young black man.
The PowerBar Laws
The Harvest Statute
A minimum of one (1), but no more than three (3) chocolate chips shall be dropped on the floor during consumption. It shall be decriminalized for one to not be able to find all of the fallen morsels; however, in lieu of state-enforced community service, excessive offenders must make a mental note of resenting the chocolate chips gone astray for a period of no less than two (2) minutes immediately thereafter.
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